Chapter Text
“Paul?"
Dr. Martin waved Adam back into his chair as he wearily descended the stairs. Shaking his head, he crossed to the settee and sat, rubbing his face with both hands. Hop Sing appeared on silent feet, leaving a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie on the table. Paul lifted his head, stared, then snorted softly and lifted the coffee, sipping deeply.
"Hop Sing is a wizard."
Adam smiled faintly. "That he is." He took a long breath, then lifted an inquiring brow. "So?"
"So." Dr. Martin shook his head again. "If I didn't see if for myself, I wouldn't believe it."
"You and me both. But how are they?"
Paul leaned back. "First of all, Adam, understand that most of what I'm about to say is extrapolated from experience with miners who have been trapped underground for some period of time. Never this long, of course, and I can't guarantee how much of a difference that will make … but that's the closest I can come to this situation." Adam nodded once, and the doctor continued.
"So. I from what I can see, their eyes are undamaged." Relief flooded him, and it was all Adam could do not to sag back into his seat. In the dark. His family had been in all but complete darkness for a month, and they had all been afraid … But no. Adam offered another curt nod and Paul smiled faintly, as though he understood. Probably, he did. "Their eyes will tired easily for a while, however, and they will all need to keep some sort of eye shading close to hand—even inside the house."
"Did you tell them that?" Adam asked, trying to imagine forcing eye protection on an unwilling Joe. Dr. Martin laughed aloud.
"I did … but good luck to you."
"Thanks for that."
"Oh, you're most welcome." The doctor took another long sip from his cup. "I have no idea how long it will take their sleep cycle to naturally adjust. I'll leave a light overnight sedative for your pa and Joe. Have them take it for the first week, and then we'll reevaluate."
"What about Hoss?"
"Hoss." Paul rubbed at his eyes. "His case is different. Given his current physical and mental state, I would prefer to forgo the sedatives for a few days. He doesn't need them for the time being, in any case—he's still unconscious, and I don't expect him to wake yet tonight."
"But, he will wake up?" Adam didn't try to hide his anxiety, not from Paul. They had known each other too long for that.
The doctor nodded emphatically. "Most definitely. Have no fear of that." Paul sat back. "We'll see where he's at in the morning. I don't want to make any decisions about his treatment until then. I have left a low light burning in his room. Don't put it out. From what your pa and Joe have said, I think it will be a good idea to keep it burning overnight for the foreseeable future."
He remembered when Hoss had finally overcome his fear of the dark as a child. His brother had been so proud … Adam shook his head fiercely, and nodded toward the spare room. "Candy put your bags in the spare room for you."
"Thanks." Dr. Martin stood. "I think I'll go ahead and retire. If anything comes up overnight, you know where to find me."
Adam stood as well, and offered his hand. "Thank you, Paul."
The doctor shook, smiling briefly. "Adam … I know it's a lot to deal with, but I want you to know how much it means to me to find your family is alive and relatively well."
"Thank you, Paul."
Dr. Martin hesitated. "Also … Joe's already asleep, but your father wanted to speak to you before taking his sedative. He asked me to send you up."
"Did he say why?"
Paul snorted softly. "He did not, and I expect it's none of my business."
"Right." Adam quirked a wry grin. "Thanks, I'll head up."
"Good night, Adam."
"Good night."
He did not head up right away, though. Adam stood before the fire for a few long minutes, attempting to sort through the day's events—the month's events. He was exhausted, and angry, and confused. Ben and Joe had detailed the bare facts on the way home, and he still couldn't believe that he had so misjudged John Postley. For now, he would have to be content with his father's assertion that Postley was an ill, injured man who was not fully in control of his faculties … but eventually, Adam would have to decide for himself what he truly believed.
John Postley had seemed quite sane to him.
He didn't want to think about Postley anymore tonight, though. More than anything, he wanted to bask in the knowledge that his pa and brothers were home, and to somehow convince the ache that had not quite left his heart and gut that it was no longer needed.
The last month did not seem to want to leave him as quickly as he would like.
His pa was waiting for him. Adam took the steps two at a time, and halted outside each brother's room as he passed, listening until he heard the steady sound of breathing. That done, he crossed to Ben's room and knocked softly.
"Come in, son."
Adam pushed the door open, slipped inside, and shut it quietly behind him. When he turned toward the bed, he was struck anew by the very impossibility of the sight before him—his father, Benjamin Cartwright, presumed dead, now tucked into his own bed and recovering. He hadn't wanted to admit that they were dead, but he hadn't truly believed that they were still alive, either …
"Adam?"
He focused. "Sorry, Pa. Did you need something?"
Ben just looked at him for a long moment with those piercing eyes that Adam had thought he would never see again, and suddenly he knew that this request wasn't about his father at all. He shifted uncomfortably, and was considering an attempt to divert the conversation when Ben suddenly opened his arms wide.
"Come here, son."
Adam battled with himself only briefly. He was not a touch-oriented person. He had never needed the same hugs and pats and physical signs of approval and affection that his brothers craved. It had been such a long month, though. He had missedthem, and he had been so deeply alone …
Loosing a shuddering breath, Adam crossed the room in three long steps, sank onto the bed, and allowed himself to be folded into his father's embrace.
fin